A Year From Now
by J. Metropolis
Summary: *co-written with Jane McAvoy* A year from now, will you still remember me? Will you still choose me? Rapunzel travels to the kingdom on her own only to be discovered there by Gothel. Flynn saves her while trying to escape with the Lost Princess' crown, but will Rapunzel choose to stay and claim her birthright or go on the run with the wanted thief? Inspired by Tangled concept art.
1. Chapter 1 The Revelation

**Chapter 1 - The Revelation**

Rapunzel couldn't believe her eyes. After all these years, she had finally made it. Perched on the island hilltop overlooking the kingdom's port, she watched in wonder as the glowing lanterns illuminated the night sky. Pure joy and elation filled her entire being as she achieved her dream at long last. She knew this was where she was meant to be. She was never returning to the tower. Mother would have to understand.

She had sent her mother to go retrieve seashells by the beach to make her white paints for her 18th birthday. It was a foil to allow her a few days to leave the tower for the first time in her life. She had packed a casket of water, a travel sack of cheese, bread and apples, dressed herself in a simple green dress and braided her long blond hair.

She knew exactly where to go when she set out for the kingdom based on the stars she had tracked all these years. The stars were her guide to the lanterns. She had traveled all day and camped out at night in a nearby cave in the forest. By the next morning, she had arrived at the entrance of the kingdom.

Filled with disbelief and excitement, Rapunzel had eagerly made her way through the village exploring all the sights and sounds, enjoying every moment of the hustle and bustle of the villagers. She had explored the fruit stands, bookstores, and dress shops. But what had caught her attention and stopped her in her tracks was a mosaic located in the center of town of the King and Queen holding their baby daughter.

She had inquired about the mosaic to a nice village woman who had informed her that it was dedicated to the Lost Princess and went on to recount the woeful tale behind the lantern festival. Rapunzel's heart broke for the King and Queen and she could not help but feel saddened by the significance of this day. She had always associated the lanterns with hope and happiness, but the purpose of the day was actually very somber and bittersweet. She had been surprised to learn that something as beautiful as the lantern festival had originated from the heartache of losing a child.

As Rapunzel was mesmerized by the sight of the lanterns floating in the night sky, her mind couldn't help but wander back to the tale of the Lost Princess. Her eyes shifted to the white dome-shaped shrine supported by four pillars which marked the memorial for the Lost Princess, situated on the hilltop only several feet away from where she was sitting. She was completely drawn to it and wanted to visit the shrine now that the lanterns had been released. Scrambling to her feet, she quickly made her way to the memorial.

She rapidly scurried up the white marble steps leading to the entrance of the temple. She found the temple to be deserted as everyone in the kingdom was down below, absorbed in the release of the lanterns. The floor of the temple was painted with the sun symbol of Corona and in its hearth was a large fire whose burning flames honored the Lost Princess.

Rapunzel looked up and stopped short when she saw the large murals painted on the walls of the temple. She stared in astonishment at the sight before her. The murals told the story of the Lost Princess.

Instantly, her eyes were drawn to the mural in the middle which portrayed the King and Queen holding their baby daughter. It was similar to the mosaic she had seen earlier in the day but it was much, much larger. This time her eyes were transfixed on the little girl who bore shiny blond hair and large green eyes. _The same color as my hair and eyes_, she innocently thought. Suddenly, Rapunzel found herself gasping for air, the temple spinning before her eyes as her legs weakened and she fell to her knees, hands cupping her cheeks. The sun symbol from the floor stared her directly in the eye, almost as a challenge, sparking a memory suppressed in the recesses of her mind for far too long. It was a memory of when she was a baby, the same sun symbol painted on the top of the ceiling in her nursery, the same sun symbol that she had painted over and over again on the walls of her tower.

"I'm the Lost Princess," she gasped between heavy breaths.

Then again, "I'm the Lost Princess," but this time with more resolve in her voice.

She looked up at the mural of the King and Queen. Shock and disbelief seared through her mind rendering her numb. _If I'm the Lost Princess, and those are my parents holding me when I was a baby, then who is Mother?_

From behind her, Rapunzel heard a familiar, yet bone-chilling voice that left her frozen with terror.

"There you are, my flower. I thought I'd lost you forever!"

* * *

**AN**: This story was co-written with Jane McAvoy for the Tangled Big Bang "a writing challenge where authors write a new, complete, 10,000+ word fan fic for Tangled, and then artists contribute by making art for the stories." We were really thrilled to have Dinosaur Barbecue do the artwork for our story because we're huge DBBQ fans. Checkout DBBQ's beautiful artwork for A Year From Now; there's a link on my profile. You should also check out DBBQ's awesome Tangled fan fics and fan art.


	2. Chapter 2 A Chance Encounter

**Chapter 2 - A Chance Encounter **

It was quiet now. Most of the city's inhabitants had gone to bed. It was dark now. Most of the lanterns that had illuminated the night's sky for hours had floated out of the kingdom, carrying with them the hopes of a nation that a lost princess would find her way home. A few paper lanterns had remained behind. Like fallen stars, these stragglers were now silently sinking into the inky black water and collapsing onto the deserted cobblestone streets.

Alone on a rooftop high above the city, Flynn Rider had observed the whole spectacle. He had been patiently waiting for hours, waiting for the right moment. He knew it was almost here. He knew that he would not have to sit on the cool, clay tiles too much longer. The guards on duty had been at their posts for almost twelve hours. From his vantage point, he could only see the tops of their shiny gold helmets. Still, he did not need to see their droopy eyes to know that by now they had grown inattentive and tired. He could tell they were worn out from the way they were slumping over, relying on their spears to support their weight. He knew his best chance of success would come now. If he waited another hour, there would be a new, fresh set of guards relieving the old ones. They would be alert and well-rested.

For the first time since he had started his protracted, agonizing watch Flynn felt a rush. He felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he carefully lowered the rope through a gap in the ceiling he had created. There, resting between the two thrones, fittingly enough on a pedestal, and sitting atop a small velvet pillow was the object of his affection. He paused for a moment to admire its beauty. Illuminated by candlelight, the individual diamonds, sapphires, and tourmalines sparkled like fireflies.

_This is it_, he thought as he painstakingly began his slow descent into the throne room. He was about to attempt the biggest heist of his career. If he succeeded, he would be richer than he had ever imagined. He could retire, buy an island even. If he failed . . . he would most certainly face the gallows.

It wasn't supposed to be a solo job. He'd had accomplices. They had planned this job for months in dark alleys and in the backrooms of disreputable establishments. The job was supposed to take place tomorrow morning. It was a national holiday and the inhabitants of the small island would be getting a late start. Flynn had gotten ahead of schedule and now that he was climbing down the rope, he wondered if he should've waited for his cohorts. He was the brains of this operation but the other two were the hired muscle and they would've been able to lower his down and back out of the throne room with less effort and more swiftness.

He supposed he would know soon enough if he had made a fatal error in cutting his collaborators out of the deal. He was now in the thick of it: within arm's reach of the crown but also within reach of the guards and their pointy spears should they detect his unwelcome presence. Flynn's breath was stilted and painfully silent. The guards' backs were turned away from the crown, and away from him.

The deathly quiet of the room was abruptly interrupted when one of the guards sneezed. Flynn's heart and lungs came to a sudden, concurrent halt. He did not dare breathe. If he had been with his cohorts, he would've probably made a flippant comment, confident in their ability to rapidly pull him out of trouble. But he was alone. He lacked the usual need for bravado he so often felt and displayed while in the company of others and he knew he would never be able to climb up a safe distance if he taunted the guards now.

Realizing that his slim chance at success was dwindling along with the minutes, Flynn quickly swiped the crown. He was surprised by how delicate and strong it felt in his hand. It was a strange juxtaposition but he didn't have much time to dwell on it. His life was still very much in peril while he remained tethered to the rope. He threaded his arm through the crown and used both hands to make his climb back up to the summit.

With the crown in tow he strangely felt lighter and he took less time in completing his ascent. Once he reached the safety of the rooftop, he took a moment to admire his new acquisition.

"_Wow_," he quietly wolf-whistled. It was more beautiful and more complex than he had imagined. He had never seen the crown up close. Few people had. The Lost Princess' crown was an artifact so valuable it was not for public display. Outside of the royal family who commissioned it, the master goldsmith who crafted it, and the guards who protected it, Flynn couldn't think of anyone who would have the opportunity to examine it. He carefully placed the crown in a small satchel he had purposely left on the rooftop and stolen for just this occasion.

Flynn felt light-headed and almost giddy as he removed the rope from his waist and began to untie it from the wooden support beam on the ceiling. His head was swimming with the things he would buy with his new fortune. He would head back to his stash and then sail to the next kingdom where he had already obtained an anxious and brash buyer.

Flynn knitted his brow and gritted his teeth as he tugged on the knot. He had already pulled up the rope and coiled it near his feet, but he was having difficulty detaching it from the beam. He had tied a very secure knot and he was having trouble undoing it. He reached for the small pouch attached to one of his belts and pulled out a dagger. As he was cutting the rope from the beam, his hand slipped and so did the dagger.

He tried to catch the dagger but it was too late. It was already out of his reach and he was relegated to the role of panicked spectator as he watched the whole calamitous scene play out in agonizingly slow motion before his eyes. Flynn watched as the small dagger fell, flipping several times in the air, missing the velvet pillow by mere inches before landing on the parquet floor with a loud metal clang.

The guards moved in unison, turning around to see the dagger on the floor and immediately looking up to see the silhouette of a man in lieu of a ceiling tile.

On the ground there was a mad scramble and a cacophony of frantic and confused shouts: "It's gone!" "It's him! It's Flynn Rider" "Stop him!"

Flynn did not stick around to hear more of their frenzied declarations. He grabbed his satchel and almost tripped over the rope as he took to his feet and ran. Once again, Flynn felt the adrenaline coursing through him. He could feel his pulse in his ears as his heart raced a mile a minute. He vaulted, rolled, climbed, and jumped across the rooftops of Corona with the guards on the ground in hot pursuit.

He heard the rhythmic clomping of hooves joining the guards' tumultuous clamor forming a disjointed and unholy racket which caused a chill to run down his spine. It meant the palace guards had already alerted the cavalry and that the captain's relentless, homicidal horse-hound was now part of the chase.

The guards' loud and erratic shouts were threatening to wake up the entire island. Flynn could see lights being lit sporadically from the windows of some of the buildings and caught glimpses of the confused, sleepy inhabitants below as he ran for his life. They walked out of their homes and onto the cobblestone streets in their caps, nights shirts and robes with candlesticks in tow to see what all the pre-dawn commotion was about.

Flynn realized he would run out of rooftops soon enough and perhaps that's why the guards had not bothered to climb up after him, preferring to keep their noisy pursuit of him on the ground instead. He knew the more people took to the streets the harder it would be for him to escape unnoticed.

He was pondering his next move when the thatched roof of the structure he was running on top of collapsed under his weight. Relying entirely on instinct, he was able to roll into his fall and lessen the blow. He recognized the strong, pungent smell and immediately realized he was inside the Tar Works. Luckily he had landed on the floor and not in a barrel of the sticky, dark liquid. It was pitch black and he took advantage of his sudden, unexpected respite to catch his breath for a moment, feeling confident that he was the lone inhabitant of the tar factory at this late hour. He knew the guards wouldn't be able to see the hole in the middle of the roof from the ground and so he sat underneath a shuttered window and listened for the sounds of the guards, the horses, and some of the residents racing past the factory on their way to what he supposed was the forest.

After a while it grew quiet again. The uproar he had caused had grown faint and distant. He stood up, squeezing his satchel to make sure everything was still in order and began to feel his way along the back wall of the structure until he found a doorknob.

He opened the door a crack and poked his head out. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it led to a poorly lit back alley.

"Rapunzel! We're going home!" said a stern voice.

"No! I won't go!" responded a younger voice.

The sound startled Flynn who was expecting an empty backstreet. He stealthy stepped back inside and quietly shut the door behind him, leaning his body against it.

He didn't catch a glimpse of the two figures, but he could tell they were having an argument. He crossed his arms in annoyance and hoped the women would resolve their differences quickly because he needed to leave the city before daybreak.

Flynn tried to mind his own business. As a matter of course and self-preservation, he didn't get involved in other people's problems. But it was dark inside the tar factory and there was nothing else for him to do but sit and listen to the conversation that was escalating outside between these two strangers.

He picked up bits and pieces, overprotective mother, forbidden roadtrip - not that that he was remotely interested.

"Oh speak up Rapunzel. You know how I hate the mumbling!"

Flynn rolled his eyes. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. The mother was starting to grate on his last nerve. Her voice made his stomach churn. It was so manipulative, so deceitful and dripping in false sweetness. He was starting to feel bad for the younger voice.

"It was _you_! You took me from my real parents, didn't you? . . . Did I mumble Mother? Or should I even call you that?"

Flynn smiled. _The daughter's finally sticking up for herself_, he thought as he mentally cheered her on.

"Oh Rapunzel, do you even hear yourself? Why would you ask such a ridiculous question?"

_And now the old lady's getting nervous_, Flynn noted, furrowing his brows in concern.

"I've spent my entire life hiding from people who would use me for my powers."

Flynn's ears perked up at the word powers, perhaps he had heard wrong, something was definitely not making sense. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was a critical piece of information he just wasn't getting. He knew it was a preposterous notion since both these women were complete strangers to him and of course he was missing something - he was missing whole swaths of information about them.

"Rapunzel - "

"All this time I should've been hiding . . . from _you_!"

"Where are you going? Get back here! Rapunzel!"

"_No_! You were wrong about the world. And you were wrong about me! And I will never let you use my hair again!"

Flynn was becoming increasingly concerned for the younger voice, the girl. She sounded so hurt, so . . . vulnerable. For some inexplicable reason, he felt protective of her. And he could tell the mother was growing desperate. It was a somber thought. Flynn had been around desperate people. Desperate people tended to lash out and take matters into their own hands. Desperate people were . . . dangerous.

_They could suddenly turn violent_, he grimly recalled as he thumbed a line of ropey, raised skin that ran along the inside of his exposed forearm.

"You want me to be the bad guy?_ F__ine. _Now I'm the bad guy."

"No! Let go of me," the younger voice struggled.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Flynn was on his feet and out the door.

"Let her go! Now!"

Both women jumped at the commanding voice of the unexpected intruder but the older woman quickly tightened her grip on the young girl's wrists before the girl resumed her protests, pulling against her captor.

Flynn did a doubletake. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw her. Even with her hair in an elaborate braid, the girl's golden tresses were impossibly long.

The older woman's cold, grey eyes narrowed as she appraised Flynn in the dim light of the alley. "Well, what have we here? Flynn Rider, the wanted thief. Now that you've overheard our little secret, I suppose you want her for yourself, don't you?"

"I said, let her go!" He demanded.

The woman let go of one small wrist but she kept a tight grip on the other, forcing the girl, who was still struggling, to stay by her side as she cautiously approached the thief.

Flynn instinctively reached for the small pouch on his belt, but it was empty. His eyes widened with realization as his mind flashed back to the parquet floor of the throne room and to the events that had led him to this back alley in the first place.

"Agh!" Flynn squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in air through gritted teeth. He felt a sharp, stabbing pain on his thigh and grabbed hold of it, feeling the hot liquid pooling in the palm of his hand as he tried to apply pressure to the now throbbing wound.

"Now look what you've done Rapunzel. Don't worry dear. Our secret will die with him."

Before Flynn could make sense of those words, his legs went out from under him and he hit his head hard on the pavement, knocking himself unconscious.

"No, no, no, no! Flynn! No! Look at me!"

It was the voice of the young girl. Her face was coming in and out of focus in the fleeting moments he was able to force his heavy eyelids open. Her hair was different, choppy and a warm chestnut brown, but he knew it was her. He recognized her kind, gentle voice and he hadn't trusted the first glimpse he had caught of her - the preternatural blonde locks. He knew his normally sharp eyes must've deceived him in the dark alley.

He felt her soft hands framing his face and pushing his hair back, away from his forehead.

"Flynn?"

He wasn't surprised that she knew his name. The entire kingdom knew the exploits of the notorious thief even if his libelous wanted posters did not do his handsome face justice. Flynn attempted to straighten his lips and push them up into a dashing smile but ended up bearing his teeth and wincing. He might have frightened her with his grimace, but he didn't stay awake long enough to gauge her reaction.

"_Oh!_ Are you alright? _Flynn_?"

"Gah!"

No, he wasn't surprised that she was calling him by name, what was striking was the way she said it, with compassion and concern. He knew better than to expect kindness from anyone, least of all a stranger. It made the whole situation . . . _surreal. _Before he could follow this train of thought, his lids gave out on him again and he plunged back into darkness.

"I'm so sorry, Flynn." He heard her voice. He didn't know how long she had been talking to him but he had only just started hearing her anew. "This is all my fault. I should've never left that tower." She was sobbing now and her warm tears were falling on his face, forcing him to resume his losing struggle to pry his eyes open and remain conscious.

The next time Flynn opened his eyes, she was out of focus. He noted that she had drawn herself closer to his face now, their noses and foreheads both touching.

His eyes closed on him again and time stood still. When he opened them she was cradling his head, rocking back and forth, holding his right hand over her short brown hair and softly singing a tune he had never heard before.

"Huh?" It was all he could think to say. The whole situation was strange to him and growing stranger each time he came to.

He turned his head to the side, away from her lap, and recognized where he was, lying on the cool cobblestone floor of the alley behind the tar factory.

He heard a horse whinny in the distance. It startled him to action like a bolt of lightning. He gave a squeeze to the satchel that still clung across his torso like a sash and jolted straight up only to have his face come crashing back down on the hard pavement.

"Gah!" He was now on his side and writhing on the floor, the pain in his leg was almost blinding.

"No. You mustn't try to get up," she said with concern, resting her cheek on the dirty floor so she could meet his eyes. "It will be daylight soon and then we can find someone to tend to your wound." She punctuated her statement with a little smile. Flynn supposed it was meant to comfort him; he scowled at her instead.

Feeling a bit remorseful, he decided to explain. "You don't understand. If they find me here, they're going to kill me," he managed between grunts.

He made another heroic attempt to stand up but hit the ground almost immediately. He rolled onto his back, turning his gaze to the lightening sky above him. He sighed as he ran his fingers through his thick hair, tugging at his scalp until he realized this too was painful thanks to the newly acquired bumps that were already starting to form on the back of his head. He tried to think, tried to figure a way out of this mess. He needed to run and with only one good leg, he couldn't even walk. He pounded his fists on the ground and growled in frustration.

"It's hopeless," he finally declared, not bothering to take the bitterness out of his voice.

"I'll help you," she said quietly as she sat back up and folded her hands on her lap.

"What?" He rolled his head to the side eyeing her in disbelief.

"If you need to leave here, I will help you," she repeated slowly.

He had heard her statement the first time, he just didn't understand why she would offer to help him.

"You'd do that for me?" He asked incredulously.

"You stuck up for me. No one's ever stuck up for me before," she mumbled, absent-mindedly running her fingers through her short hair, her eyes once again welling up with tears.

He heard that hell-horse again in the distance and instinctively tried to get up, momentarily forgetting about his leg.

"Gah!"

"Wait here," she said.

"It's not like I can go anywhere," he muttered humorlessly as she quickly took to her feet and walked over to a charcoal traveling cloak that was lying a few yards away from them. She shook it and an absurd amount of dust fell out of it making Flynn wonder just how long the cape had been there.

"Here," she said. "Put this on."

Flynn hesitantly took the cloak from her, giving it a once over. Something about it made his skin crawl.

She gave him a stern glare, apparently she wasn't going to take any backtalk from him. He quickly threw the cloak over himself, turning his head to the side so she wouldn't see him smirk.

She crouched down next to his bad leg and put his arm over her shoulder. Acting as a crutch, she helped him stand up. Despite his best efforts to project a calm, manly exterior, a yelp escaped his lips. Flynn frowned in annoyance. Now that he was exerting pressure on his wounded leg, it was throbbing once more and the hardened, caked blood surrounding it was starting to flow again.

They slowly began their trek out of the alley. He was panting now, his breaths coming in shallow and labored as he tried not to lean too much on her. She was significantly smaller than he was and so slight.

He had stood up to humor her and had expected to fall back down almost immediately. He had expected her buckle under the pressure, the way he had done when he had tried to stand up on his own, but he had misjudged her. She was stronger and more resilient than her slim frame had suggested.

She gracefully stepped over an object on the ground that looked like a log. He had first noticed it when she went to get the cloak and he had followed her with his eyes. The two objects had been lying in close proximity to each other, but he had forgotten about it, becoming distracted by his own thoughts, wondering if he would be discovered, or if he would bleed to death first.

When his boot became entangled in the soft object, he realized it wasn't a log at all and looked down to inspect it more closely.

He felt her tugging on him, sensing that she was in a hurry to move past it. Thankfully it had ensnared his good leg and he was able to kick it free with little effort, and more importantly, little pain.

"Is that . . . _hair_?" He asked her as he looked back at the now coiled, remnants of an enormous brown braid that snaked across the ground.

"Shh!" She tried to silence him but he paid her no heed.

"Um . . . _Rapunzel_?" He said her name cautiously, he knew from experience that women could get very testy when he got their names wrong. He had heard the name from the old woman, the one he hadn't thought about until now and who earlier had seemed so determined to take her daughter home but now had evidently and conveniently split. Flynn didn't miss her.

He wasn't entirely confident in his ability to recall the girl's name considering that he had passed out more instances than he would care to admit and had hit his head several times in the process. When she didn't correct him, he shrugged and continued. "Look. I know you mean well and you want to help but this isn't going to work. Sure the streets are empty _now, _but there's no way we'll make it over the bridge and into the forest before daybreak at this pace, even if you can keep holding me up."

She glared at him, evidently annoyed at his lack of faith in her abilities and he couldn't help but chuckle a little. He supposed she was trying to appear menacing but it had the opposite effect - it reminded him of an angry kitten.

His reaction made only made her more cross with him and so he cleared his throat as a means to conceal his amusement.

"We don't need to make it to bridge," she said curtly. "We just need to make it to the canals."

Flynn's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he looked at her in astonishment. All those months he had spent meticulously plotting and re-plotting the crown heist, their escape route had always remained the same. They'd run across the bridge and into the forest. He had never thought of using the canals to leave the city, a much more discrete and faster exit. It was brilliant, really and for the second time that day Flynn realized he had underestimated the small girl.

They walked, or in his case limped, in silence until they reached the edge of the nearest canal. It was daybreak by the time they arrived. This being the day after the lantern festival, the narrow waterway was littered with small boats tied to the posts that ran along the edge of the canal. Flynn shook his head in amazement. _We wouldn't have even needed to search for a getaway boat_, he thought_. _He had been pretty confident in his heist plotting abilities, but hers was indisputably the superior plan. Flynn smirked to himself, he should've been plotting heists with her.

She got out from under him and jumped into the nearest gondola. He slowly lowered himself into the boat holding onto the edge of the seawall for support and mindful to put all his weight on his good leg. It wasn't a particularly attractive way to get into a boat and he thought it was unfortunate that he wouldn't get to impress her with his athletic prowess. A few hours earlier and she could've witnessed him leaping across buildings.

_It's a shame_, he thought to himself. Years from now, if they survived this ordeal, she would probably remember him as the gimpy thief and not the agile bandit his carefully crafted reputation rightfully suggested. He scowled and banished the thought because for some unexplained reason he very much wanted to impress her.

He grabbed the only oar on the boat, but she took it out of his hand before he got a firm grip. He frowned at her in protest, but she silently pointed to the guards on their early-morning patrol near the mouth of the canal.

Flynn begrudgingly took to the floor of the boat, trying to flatten out as much as possible given his stinging, throbbing leg. Using the traveling cloak as a blanket, he covered himself from view.

There, with his nose pressed against the wooden floor of the gondola, he noticed her bare feet for the first time. It was his last coherent thought. Whether it was all the bloodloss, the exertion it took to walk the few blocks from the back alley to the canal or mere exhaustion from the constant, throbbing pain, Flynn passed out on the floor of the boat.


	3. Chapter 3 The Cave

**Chapter 3 - The Cave**

She was depleted. It had taken every ounce of her strength to hoist him over the gondola, her hands tucked under each of his arms as she dragged his deadweight across the small beach. They'd only just made it to the edge of the forest, but her muscles already burned from exertion. Her back, her shoulders, her arms all ached as she let go of his torso. His body closed the short distance to the ground with a low thud. She rested her hands on her knees for a moment so she could catch her breath before straightening up out of the slumped over position she'd assumed when she'd been dragging him. She leaned her head back to stretch out her spine until she was almost concave before returning to her normal posture and to the matter at hand.

She brought a hand up to cup her chin and placed the other on her hip as she looked down at her charge. His laid there where she'd left him minutes earlier - flat on his back atop a bed of leaves, his arm still keeping a tight grip on that satchel. He hadn't assumed a particularly dignified countenance - his mouth slightly agape, his thick eyebrows scrunched together as if he were in some distress. Even so, her breath couldn't help but catch in the back of her throat as she looked at him for the first time in the morning light. It had been dark in the alley and although the sun was already out when she'd marooned the gondola she'd had her hands full and her mind occupied. But now, she couldn't help admiring his -

"Huh," she gasped sharply when she heard a horse whinny in the distance and it was enough to bring her back to reality, to their present dilemma.

She knew she had to wake him and quickly. She couldn't make it further inland without his help.

"Flynn?" He didn't stir. She felt awful waking him - if his face hadn't told her of his pain, his labored breathing would have - but they were running out of time and if she didn't do something drastic the guards would catch up with them.

She ran back to the gondola and was surprised to see that despite all her efforts, they'd covered little distance. She grabbed her water casket and her now empty travel sack from the hull of the gondola and threw both items over her shoulder. She reached out for the cloak but hesitated. As she ran back towards the forest she told herself that she'd left it behind because Flynn was in danger and she needed to get back to him right away. She told herself that she'd left it behind because she needed to travel light and that she'd return for it once they found shelter.

Rapunzel dropped to her knees as soon as she reached Flynn. He was exactly where she'd left him. She quickly pulled the cork off the casket and poured half its contents onto his face.

He coughed and sputtered as his eyes popped open and his arms shot up protectively over his face.

"What the hell Rapunzel, were you trying to drown me?" He tried hard to keep a scowl on his face in between coughs as he sat up.

She ignored his question and proceeded to place her shoulder under his arm, prompting him to stand up.

* * *

"It's over there!" She pointed out the way before turning around to look at him. Flynn had propped himself up against a rock several feet behind her. He was trying to keep himself from falling over as he caught his breath in between grunts. She walked back and grabbed Flynn by the hand and led him toward a thicket of ivy vines.

Flynn hesitated, "Where? There's nothing over there except a bunch of vines."

"I'm sure of it. Come on." She pulled Flynn along, gaining momentum, as he braced himself for what appeared to be the wall of a mountain. As they approached, she parted the entrance of the vines and despite his protests they ran head long into the cave.

Panting heavily they both took a few moments to catch their breath when Rapunzel noticed Flynn's face grimacing in pain. He was grabbing his injured thigh. Her eyes quickly flew to his wound and took in the blood stain that had grown larger. Her hands instinctively reached over and peeled back the torn fabric of his pants, eliciting a groan from him as he threw his head back against the wall of rocks.

She crouched down to get a better look at his leg. Even under the few rays of light that made their way through the curtain of ivy, she could see the cut was much deeper than she had initially realized. She looked back up at his still contorted, still beautiful face, amazed that he had walked this far with an injury of that size.

Rapunzel assessed the situation. She no longer had her hair to heal him, but she knew how to clean wounds from all the medical books she had read in her tower. She reached for the water casket that was still hanging over her shoulder and poured the remaining water onto his leg, gently but quickly cleansing his wound. He cried out and grimaced in pain as the water came in contact with his broken skin.

"Sorry, I'll be quick," she assured him.

Ripping off a long strip of green fabric from the hem of her dress, she tied it around his thigh covering up the wound and trying to stop the loss of blood.

In the distance, they heard the sounds of horses neighing and the shouting voices of the guards who were still in pursuit.

Flynn quickly grabbed her by her elbows and moved them both towards the back of the cave, into darker recesses where even the sun's rays could not reach. They collapsed on the floor next to each other. As they heard footsteps approaching closer and closer to the cave entrance, she felt herself shaking uncontrollably from fear. Flynn reached out and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her onto his chest, and giving her a comforting '"shush" under his breath. He wrapped his other arm around her to further quell her shaking form, and ducked his head as he buried his cheek in her hair. She felt his warm breath against her temple and heard his heartbeat pounding in his chest. Her breath hitched when she heard the rustling of the vines at the entrance of the cave. She felt Flynn release her. He crouched up in front of her and with his arm, he reached back pushing her further behind him. She felt his entire body tensing as if preparing himself to attack if the guards were to enter the cave.

To her relief, the sound of the approaching footsteps stopped. "There's nothing here. It's just a dead end. Come on, let's turn around."

They lay silent and motionless on the floor of the cave until the echo of galloping horses grew softer and softer and disappeared completely.

Rapunzel shifted gently when she felt Flynn's arms reach back for her, pulling her against him as he scooted back resting his head against the wall. She placed her head on his chest until she heard his heartbeat slow down and he began to breathe evenly. She wasn't sure how long they remained liked this before she realized he'd already drifted off to sleep. She felt her own eyelids grow heavy, and exhaustion finally took over as she joined him in slumber.

* * *

Rapunzel woke up with a start. She felt someone's hot breath on the back of her neck, her head was resting on someone else's arm and its companion was draped heavily across the side of her body. She was struck by fear for a moment until she remembered where she was. She lifted his arm out of the way so she could turn and face him.

He was still asleep and she noted that for the first time since she had met him, he looked peaceful. She smiled at him as she pushed back strands of sweat matted hair off his forehead. He felt hot against her fingertips and it instantly drew her attention back to his injured leg. She scooted down his body to remove the impromptu tourniquet from his leg. Although it was now more red than green, it had done its job; it had stopped the bleeding. Rapunzel breathed a momentary sigh of relief, but she knew that wasn't all she had to worry about and that he wasn't quite in the clear. She palmed the floor of the dark cave, locating her discarded sack and casket before heading out.

* * *

She knew exactly what she was looking for: myrrh, oak and yarrow to stave off infection, chickweed, licorice root and willow to reduce inflammation, rosemary to improve circulation and witch hazel to use as an astringent.

She carefully placed these herbs into her sack, selected two well-shaped rocks to use as a mortar and pestle and refilled her casket in the nearby river before making her way back to the cave.

To her relief, Flynn was still asleep when she got back. She'd worried that he would wake up and think she had abandoned him and she couldn't exactly leave him a note so she tried to rush back as quickly as possible.

It was too dark inside the cave to distinguish the different herbs and it would probably be too noisy and there might even be an echo if she started grinding and crushing them there. She really didn't want to wake up Flynn so she decided to work outside the cave.

She separated the different herbs into groups on the ground as she removed them from her sack. From memory, she was able to mix and crush them. With a small amount of water, she made a balm of the myrrh, oak and yarrow. She had nowhere to store the balm and she needed the mortar to mix the next set of ingredients so she decided to administer the mixture to the patient as she went along.

"Ouch! Rapunzel, that stings. What the hell is that? "

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Just got back to sleep," she apologized.

She was done mixing the next set of ingredients half an hour later.

"Would you stop waking me up like this. Ugh! You have got to be kidding me. This one smells like -"

"We're almost done! I promise."

She muttered under her breath as she mixed the witch hazel and the rosemary together. Her medical books had not called for this shortcut and she wasn't sure if combining the two would affect their efficacy, but then again her medical books had also failed to provide instructions on how to deal with unruly patients and she was pretty sure neither she nor Flynn could take much more of this.

* * *

At nightfall, Flynn was able to start a fire from the tree branches and brushwood she had collected and brought back to their makeshift campsite.

She sat near the fire removing from her sack the nuts she had gathered and placing them on her mortar-shaped rock, leaving behind only the wild grapes and berries she had picked on her second, or maybe her third trip to the forest that day. Rapunzel had once again relied on the knowledge she had gained from her books, this time a botany book, to distinguish the edible berries from the poisonous ones while foraging through the forest.

She cracked the nuts with her pestle and discarded the shells, before pushing the mortar towards the fire to roast the nuts.

Flynn sat a few feet behind her atop a fallen log, brooding. He had slept most of the day for which Rapunzel was grateful because he had been unpleasant and moody the few times she'd had to wake him. His arms were now folded over his chest and he was still sporting a scowl. He had expressed reservations earlier about eating the berries. Rapunzel had taken offense and had responded that if he didn't want any, she would eat them all herself.

He eyed her with suspicion as he reached down into the sack and tasted each type of berry. He had insisted on being the first to try them, just in case her memory was faulty and she had picked the wrong kind. She wasn't sure if he was being chivalrous or if he was hoping to end his ordeal early. He had been rather grumpy ever since she had given him his medicines.

When Flynn did not keel over and die, he pushed the sack of non-poisonous berries over towards her side of the log while she removed the now red hot mortar from the fire with a stick. The nuts were lightly scorched but she thought she had done a good job considering her primitive cookware. It would've seemed silly then, but she wished she had packed her trusty frying pan.

They ate their meal in relative silence. She could hear the cackling of the fire, the sound of crickets, what she could only hope was an owl hooting in the distance, but the only person in her midst remained quiet.

She glanced over at him with the corner of her eye. He had finished eating and had resumed his prior posture, arms crossed, his face in a grimace. She could tell his leg was bothering him. She decided to distract him from his leg with a bit of light after dinner conversation.

"So Flynn, where are you from?" She said, smiling expectantly at him.

"Huh?" He sounded surprised and she realized then that she had interrupted his thoughts, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it, she was eager for some company.

"Sorry, babe. I don't do backstory." It was a perfunctory statement, one he appeared to have given many times before.

He had shot her down and Rapunzel deflated as she let go of the breath she was holding. He must've noticed because his whole demeanor suddenly changed.

"_So_! Haven't seen you before. What brings you to Corona?" He spoke rapidly and in a light, cheerful tone she couldn't reconcile with his disposition just a few moments ago. It felt forced and unnatural like the smile he had just sprouted. She supposed he was trying to make amends for his bristly retort, so she didn't press the matter further and answered his question.

"I came to see the floating lights."

"You mean the lantern thing they do for the princess?" He sounded bored.

"Yes!" In contrast to his lackluster response, Rapunzel could feel her excitement bubbling up inside her.

"Oh, I see. So when your mother found out you were missing, she went looking for you."

"Um . . .," Rapunzel grew quiet now. She wasn't sure how much she should tell him but now that her magic hair was gone, she reasoned there was really no harm in sharing a little bit about herself with him. ". . . That woman, the one you saw in the alley . . . she wasn't my real mother."

"Stepmother?"

"No, not exactly. See, up until yesterday I thought she was my mother . . . but then I found out that she had kidnapped me as a baby."

She glanced up at Flynn who responded by raising his eyebrows and dropping his jaw. She ran her fingers through her choppy hair before continuing.

"That's not all . . . the reason she kidnapped me was because I have, because I had," she quickly corrected herself, "magic hair that would've kept her young forever. She raised me in a tower and told me that a gift like mine needed to be protected. It had to stay hidden. So I . . . so I never -"

"So you never left that tower?" He said still gaping at her.

Rapunzel nodded as she hid her face in her hands. Now that she had said it out loud to someone the whole situation seemed really messed up and she felt stupid and embarrassed for believing the lies for all those years. She peeked up at him through the gaps in her fingers and noticed the strange way he was now looking at her. She wasn't sure if it was pity or compassion but whatever his intentions, it only served to amplify her feelings of shame.

She felt his hand on her back and she started to cry.

"It's okay," he hushed, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "You don't have to go back if you don't want to. She won't hurt you anymore. I won't let her. I promise."

He pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair as she sobbed into his neck.

"That's not it," she said, rubbing her nose against the collar of his shirt before she realized what she was doing. Rapunzel was about to apologize for her rude gesture; she had expected him to recoil, but instead, he tightened his embrace. After a moment she pulled away from him and started talking again.

"I didn't mean to do it," she continued in between sobs, "I was angry with her and she had just hurt you for no reason. I knew she only wanted me for my hair so I took the dagger she had just stabbed you with and cut it all off. I had intended to give her the braid, since that was all she had ever wanted, and then she would leave us alone and I could get help for you. I didn't know that it would . . . I didn't know that she would turn to ash, Flynn. I didn't know all that I'd have left of her was her cloak."

* * *

The log he was sitting on had grown uncomfortable and he could feel the sweat starting to accumulate on the back of his neck. Maybe it was because he was sitting too close to the fire, or maybe it was because he was starting to feel like a heel. That knot in his stomach felt an awful lot like regret. He had been so short with her earlier. That answer, that cookie cutter answer he gave everyone who was too nosy to mind their own business and tried to pry into his life, well . . . she hadn't deserved that. It didn't apply to her. Why was he mad at her in the first place? It wasn't her fault he wasn't lying under a palm tree and drinking out of a coconut right now. She didn't stab him. She hadn't even asked him to intervene. And now that he knew her story, well, there was no doubt in his mind that he would do it all over again. She had been so nice to him. She had helped him. Hell, she had saved his life. And it turned out she had been through a_ lot _- more than he would have guessed, more than her relentless cheerfulness and boundless enthusiasm would have suggested. She had trusted him by revealing the unimaginable truth about her so-called mother, the least he could do was be honest with her.

* * *

". . . It's Eugene, actually,"

"What?"

"My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert."

She wasn't quite sure how to respond to that so she remained quiet.

"There was this book, _The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider. _Swashbuckling rogue," he gestured as if he had a sword in his hand, "richest man alive - "

"Did you always want to be like him?" She scooted closer to him on the log.

"Well, no." He grew quiet as he leaned forward staring at the fire again, his hands coming down to rest on his knees, mindful of his wound.

"I wanted to be a sailor, a sea captain, actually. I wanted to run my own ship, just like. . . just like my father."

"Why didn't you?"

"My father traveled all over the world bringing back spices. I idolized him and I missed him terribly when he was gone. Sometimes, on short day trips, he would take me with him, he would let me wear his hat and he would even let me take the helm. Well, he didn't _really l_et me steer the ship. I couldn't see past the wheel, but he would let me pretend." He chuckled as he glanced back at her and smiled for just a moment before returning his attention to the fire. It was enough to make her heart flutter.

"On his last voyage," he sighed, his voice turning somber, "he brought back . . . he fell ill shortly after he returned. My mother was devastated. She tended to him morning, noon, and night and then she caught whatever he had and then . . . then they were both gone and it was just me. I was angry. For a really long time I was angry. It's stupid I know. But I was a stupid kid back then and I no longer wanted to be like him. I _hated_him. I felt like it was his fault that I had lost both of them . . .The nuns at the orphanage gave me the book as a way to cheer me up, to keep my mind off things and keep me out of trouble, but I saw it as my way out . . . For a kid, with nothing, it just seemed like a better option."

"I'm so sorry Eugene," she started to say as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stiffened uncomfortably before shifting slightly away from her.

". . . Wait, that cloak that you made me put on, that was _her _cloak? Ugh! Creepy." Rapunzel pulled back and glared at him. He put his hands up defensively, "Right, right. Cloak's not important, got it."

* * *

Rapunzel woke up before Eugene the next morning. She grabbed her sack and her casket and headed back out to gather water and herbs for his medicine. When she returned, he was already awake and had started to kindle a fire.

"Eugene, give me your pants." She declared, holding her hand out.

"Okay babe, but shouldn't you buy me a drink first?" he smirked.

"Eugene, I'm serious. I need to wash them. They've got dried blood and dirt and bits of medicine. They're absolutely filthy."

"You don't have to ask me twice," he said giving her a strange face that made him look like he'd eaten a sour batch of berries.

He stood up and slowly stepped out of his boots, removing his belts, before turning his attention to the metal clasps on his vest and pulling his formerly white shirt up from inside his pants. He handed her each article of clothing as he shed them.

The whole thing seemed strangely choreographed to her. Like he wasn't just taking off his clothes, he was putting on a show for her. She stood there dumbstruck, her gaze captured between the flat planes of his bare chest and the carved ridges of his stomach. He hooked his fingers on the waistband of his pants when she finally found her wits and lost her nerve.

"Wait! On second thought. You could use some washing up too. Just, just keep them on."

He seemed disappointed and she laughed nervously as she shook her head trying to clear her thoughts and hoping the blush on her cheeks would quickly subside.

They made their way to the river. She walked a few feet ahead of him, finding it hard to maintain the slow pace. Her legs were twitching. Now that she was no longer confined to the walls of the tower, she wanted to run everywhere and for the past few days she had but she was with company now and she felt it was rude to leave him too far behind, although he didn't seem to mind walking behind her.

It was the first time he had ventured this far out of the cave and he seemed to be taking it all in: the fresh air, the trees, the view ahead, the view from behind.

She glanced back and caught him staring at her, but his eyes weren't exactly level with her head, or her back. He quickly redirected his gaze upwards to meet her eyes and gave her a boyish grin that was entirely too innocent. "Come on, gimpy, we're almost there," she called over her shoulder.

The river was cold and clear. She could see the smooth rocks and slimy moss along the riverbed. It was the same river she had walked up to several times a day to fill up her casket but now that he was with her the water seemed friendlier and more inviting. She climbed up on one of the flat, dry rocks that jutted out of the water. It was large enough for her to lie on her stomach and reach down into the riverbed to pick up a stone, disrupting the earth and clouding the water beneath her. She'd taken his shirt with her, intending to pummel it clean against the rocks.

She heard a splash and looked up to see him kicking about in the deeper part of the river where the water was the color of a moonless night and she couldn't see the ground below. It made her nervous.

"Come on in, Rapunzel," he called out to her, opening his mouth wide and tugging on one of his ears, "the water's great."

She got up on the rock but lost her courage. "I can't swim," she called back to him. She stared at her feet, shifting her weight and feeling a bit disappointed.

He swam towards her and when his feet could reach the ground, he stood up and walked the rest of the way.

"Sorry, I forgot about the tow- . . . come on, I'll show you," he said putting an arm behind her knees and the other securely around her waist before picking her up. She giggled when cool beads of water rolled off of him and fell onto her skin. She felt strangely tempted to lick a droplet that clung precariously to his earlobe. She wasn't sure where that thought had come from but she talked herself out of it. She was fairly certain Eugene wouldn't like it if she licked his ear. He might even freak out and think she was odd. Instead, she placed her arms around his neck, leaving his shirt behind on the rock.

He stayed where his feet could still touch the sediment because she had asked him to as she clung to his shoulders.

"The first step is learning to put your head underwater," he told her. "You'll have to hold your breath. Ready?"

Rapunzel held her breath, puffing her cheeks out. Eugene chuckled and smiled at her which made her laugh and release the breath she was holding into a sputter.

"Okay. Let's try that again," he said encouragingly.

Rapunzel sucked in air and tried lowering her face down into the water but when her chin got wet she lost her nerve. She had held her breath lots of times in the tower. It was one of those solitary games she could play alone, challenging herself to see how long she could hold it. She was very good at it, it was the underwater part that made her nervous.

She smiled up at him bashfully. "Oh, come on, it's easy. You can do it," he responded.

Rapunzel shook her head.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, I've got you," he promised.

This time she ducked her head quickly and opened her eyes in wonder. She forgot where she was for a moment as she stared at the fishes and the strange new plant life that grew at the bottom of the river. The colors were brighter from this perspective, she noted. She felt a pair of strong hands tighten around her, pulling her out before she was ready to come back up for air.

"Alright. I think that's enough practice for one day," he told her, keeping his grip around her. Rapunzel's heart was pounding hard from holding her breath underwater but she was surprised to feel that Eugene's heart was pounding hard too.

He gently placed her back on the rock next to his shirt and whether it was intentional or not, he faintly brushed his lips against the side of her cheek before grabbing her sack and heading back into the depths of the river. He used the sack as a net and Rapunzel was delighted when he came back with two small fishes. He tried to explain to her that he needed a fishing pole and a hook, but she was already impressed with what she perceived to be an extraordinary catch.

On their way back from the river, he helped her collect berries, nuts and herbs to season the fish. This time they also found wild mushrooms. Rapunzel eyed them carefully before declaring that they were safe to eat. They filled up her sack and now that he was with her, he carried it for her.

They walked and talked all day in the sun and by the time they made it back to their campsite, the clothes on their backs were already dry.

He left her alone to collect firewood and she began to sort the various nuts, plants, berries and mushrooms for their feast. She smiled to herself in contentment. It was the first time they had done something leisurely together and she'd had fun. She had discovered that she enjoyed his company and that he was pleasant to be around when he wasn't being a grouch. She could tell he was feeling better too. She had checked on his wound earlier and although it had only been a few days, there was no sign of infection.

When he returned, he started the fire and took over the task of roasting the nuts and now the mushrooms and the fish. It was such an overabundance of food that Rapunzel saved the berries for dessert instead of the main course.

After dinner they talked by the fire. They both leaned against the log as they sat next to each other on the ground. He told her of his adventures and about the crown heist and she relayed to him the different ways she had kept herself entertained in the tower. She noticed that he was a good storyteller _and _a good listener, that he had made her laugh, that his eyes were honest and warm, like burnt honey and there was something about his worldliness that captivated her. She found herself drawn to him like a firefly to a flame and the way he looked at her made her avert her eyes and smile. She realized she liked him and she sensed that he might feel the same way about her too.

By nightfall, she rested her head on his shoulder, against his newly clean, crisp white shirt that smelled of river water, since they had no soap, but which she inexplicably now found alluring and intoxicating nonetheless. She stroked the hair on the back of his head and he leaned slightly into her palm telling her that that was how his mother would get him to fall asleep as a small child.

When it was time to turn in, he poured sand over the dying embers and took her hand as they made their way into their cave.

The night before, they had slept huddled together because it was cold outside and it was too risky to fall asleep in front of the fire, the guards might still be searching for him, but tonight she was looking forward to falling asleep in his arms.

It didn't take long for her to work up the courage to kiss him. She had never kissed a man before, but after some hesitation, she started to feel confident she was doing it correctly. Other than his initial surprised gasp, she hadn't heard any complaints and he was returning her kisses, placing a hand behind her head for support and gently parting her lips with his tongue. She was fairly certain she was doing a good job as she ran her fingers through his smooth, thick hair and his other hand began to trace the silhouette of her dress, lingering at the seams on her back where her bodice came together. She rolled back, pulling him on top of her and though he was mostly supporting himself on his forearms, which now rested on either side of her body, she could still feel some of his weight pressing down on her leg causing her mind to wander back to her medical books. She felt a shiver of nervous anticipation and excitement as she increased the fervor of her encouraging kisses, armed with the knowledge that she had done everything right.

* * *

Eugene's head was spinning. She had kissed him. She had actually kissed him and it wasn't just one kiss. It was a barrage of kisses; he didn't stand a chance. They were frantic and urgent and clumsy, but they were also passionate and heated and they were driving him wild. He hadn't kissed like this, he hadn't been kissed like this since . . . since he was a teenager and then he realized that one of them was still a teenager. A teenager who up until a few days ago had been unknowingly locked away in a tower. A teenager who had just started figuring things out.

It was a sobering thought. It was enough to dampen his enthusiasm. _Ah hell_, who was he kidding, he might as well have jumped headfirst in the cold river. It would've had the same numbing effect. Still, he tried to be discreet about it, employing a deliberately slow and gradual retreat because he didn't want to hurt her feelings. He didn't want her to feel the sting of rejection, even though it was not painless on his part either. His body vehemently protested this about-face, punishing him for his sudden treachery.

"Eugene? Is something wrong?"

"No. Everything's great," he responded in a voice he did not recognize as his own, strained and higher than he would've liked. "It's just that it's getting late. We should, we should really get some sleep." He mimicked a yawn hoping to cement the lie he had just planted.

He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, before turning her around in his arms and tucking her under his chin. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the dull ache and the worrisome thought that despite his denial something _was_ seriously wrong with him, and trying hard to stifle the implications behind his mutinous behavior.


	4. Chapter 4 The Confession

**Chapter 4 - The Confession**

They had fallen into a routine. An _odd_ routine, but a routine nonetheless. The last few mornings she had awoken around seven. He knew because he was awake too. He only feigned sleep because he liked the way she woke him.

She would lean in very close, brushing her soft lips against his ear and she would whisper. "_Eugene."_He liked the way she said his name, always stressing the first syllable and in that sing-songy tone that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and take notice. He would try hard to keep his face still, to keep his lips from curving upwards and when he could no longer suppress a smile, he would turn his face away from her.

She was not easily deterred. He liked that about her, she was persistent. She would tug on his arm, poke him in the ribs with her small fingers and crawl over him to look at his face all the while he would pretend he was dead to the world. When all else failed, she would grab his leg - the good one, she was always careful with him, always mindful to grab the good leg - and she would try to drag him awake. He would add a well-placed snore here and there for good measure and when, inevitably, the jig was up, a rich and hearty laugh followed by high-pitched giggles would bounce off the walls of the cave. She would fall into him, into his ever ready arms and he would catch her in an embrace.

There, he would nuzzle her for as long as she would let him before she would start playfully hitting his chest with her balled up fists, accusing him of feigning sleep and he would protest, putting a hand over his heart in mock hurt at her unkind allegations. He had pleasantly noticed that the amount of time she would allow him to hold her had grown longer as the week had progressed.

Despite the near death experience and all the pain he had endured, it was quite possibly the best week of his life and he was anxious about it coming to an end. The herbs she had used on his leg were healing his wound up nicely. He was now able to walk with no limp and very little pain.

It would probably still scar but he didn't mind that. He was looking forward to it. He would wear it proudly, like a badge. He had a few other scars that graced various parts of his body and they each told a story. This one would be by far his happiest scar, if such things existed, and he very much wanted to carry this story on him permanently.

He knew that they no longer had a use for the cave, that they should probably pack up soon and move on and while, on the one hand he didn't know what moving on would entail, he had some very clear ideas about who he wanted to include.

He knew she had changed him and that he would never be able to go back to his old life now. He didn't want to and although they had only known each other the span of not quite a week, he couldn't imagine his life without her.

So it was during their morning charade, while her face was burrowed in the crook of his neck and the curve of her lips were faintly touching his collarbone, but before she had accused him of only pretending to be asleep, that he decided to speak up.

"Rapunzel?" He tried to keep the concern and apprehension out of his voice and evidently succeeded because all he got back was a dreamy, listless response.

"Hmmm?" She nestled into him further, pressing her lips to his neck and tickling the underside of his jaw with her thick, long lashes. He shuddered as he instinctively tightened his arms around her slight frame, drawing their bodies closer together.

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple coming in contact with the inside of the arm she had draped over his shoulder. He dipped his head to kiss that small arm, her smooth skin instantly erupting in goosebumps in response to his scruffy chin.

She pulled her arm away from him rubbing the spot where his lips had just been. "That tickles," she giggled as she sat up on his lap and beamed at him.

Eugene realized he must have looked worried because her face turned serious when she saw his.

"Is . . . everything okay?" she asked.

He could see the concern in her large green eyes as she tried to read him. It took him by surprise.

"Huh? Oh . . . yes. Yes, of course. I just . . ."

Eugene impulsively kissed her. Partly because he wanted to kiss away that little pout that was starting to form on her plump bottom lip and partly because he didn't know how much longer he would be able to do this, to kiss her.

He reluctantly pulled back from her, even though her hands were now intertwined in his hair, even though her breath was starting to grow shallow and labored.

Her lids were still closed and her lips slightly parted when he spoke again. His voice quiet and determined.

"Rapunzel. I know we've only known each other a short time, but . . . "

Her eyes snapped open and he lost himself for a moment in those impossibly large, deep pools of emerald. His train of thought, derailed by their luster. He shook his head in an effort to clear it and when he found his bearings, he continued.

"Until a couple of days ago . . . my life's goal was to save up enough money to buy an island where I could live alone, like some hermit . . . I know what you're thinking, that's a pretty pathetic dream, right?"

He ducked into her line of sight and gave her a lopsided smile, but he was only met with concern.  
He had hoped to get some clue, some sort of indication of how she would react when he finally stopped tripping over his words and said what he had been thinking. When he found none, he drew breath, releasing her waist and running his fingers through his hair.

"I'm not sure where to go from here . . . But I know that the way I feel about you, I've never felt about anyone. I guess . . . I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want you to come with me, Rapunzel."

For a moment she was perfectly still as she sat there gazing at him. His mouth was slightly agape, his brows high as he waited expectantly for her to say something, _anything _in response. And then he saw it, a grin spreading across her lips and it didn't stop there. It continued, pushing up into her eyes. It was as if her whole face lit up, it was as if her smile was shining down him and then she threw herself at him. She did not have far to go to close the distance and she threw herself with such force, with such excitement that she knocked him over and he laid there, flat on his back under a siege of kisses. He wasn't exactly pinned to the ground by her slight weight, but he still felt unable and unwilling to move out from under her, nonetheless.

"So, is that a yes?" He asked, his voice muffled by her tight embrace.

She pulled back to look at him and balled her hands into the collar of his vest.

"Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!" she exclaimed in between kisses. The certainty in her response took him by surprise before his buried his fingers into her hair and answered her short, rapid kisses with long, languid ones.

* * *

Eugene had been in a daze since that morning. He was sure she had caught him more than once smiling at her like the lovestruck sap he had become but he didn't care. She hadn't called him out on it and she had agreed to go with him. Life couldn't be more perfect as far as he was concerned.

In the evening, he started a fire, crossing his arms as he casually leaned back on their fallen log. Before nightfall, she came over to him and he opened his arms up to her. It was a cool night, even sitting next to the fire, but he no longer needed the pretext of supplying warmth to show her unmasked affection. He ran his fingers through her short hair as she wrapped her arms around his torso and laid her head against his chest. He thought it was an unfortunate resting spot. Here, at close proximity, she did such strange things to his heart, but perhaps that was why she had chosen to place her head there. Perhaps his heart told her things, things he felt deeply but wasn't quite ready to say. He gently pressed her ear closer to his chest as he leaned down to kiss the crown of her head.

He stared at the waxing fire but his thoughts were elsewhere. He had never been this happy, he thought as a smile crept over his lips.

He knew his thieving days were behind him. He'd had a successful run but the crown job was always meant to be his swansong. He had dreamt about it for years, planned it for months and now that he had pulled it off, he was ready to retire.

They had agreed to set out early tomorrow morning. They would go back to his stash before heading north to the next kingdom.

The money he had accumulated over the years was enough to provide for them until he could lineup another purchaser for the crown. A week's wait was enough to drive away even the most interested buyer and the one he had previously secured had been skittish about the transaction, at best. It would take time to find a new buyer, someone with vast resources and no morals. It was not an uncommon combination of traits, as he had come to learn in his near decade of thieving, but these things required a certain amount of discretion and he needed to be patient.

Eugene reflected upon his lot in life for a moment. It wasn't something he dwelled on often. It was unpleasant, it made him uncomfortable, and he knew it wasn't what his parents would've wanted for their only child. But then again, they weren't here. And their absence had been the catalyst that had sent him on this crooked path in the first place.

He thought about the crown again. It was his ticket out of this disreputable profession and once he got rid of it, he could start a new life. They could settle down somewhere. They could buy a house, a _large _house, an estate and maybe there, when she felt ready, they could even start a family.

"Eugene?" She sat up as she spoke his name, interrupting his thoughts and undoubtedly catching him with that dopey grin splashed across his face again.

He scrambled to rearrange his features into something more dashing and roguish and less reminiscent of a besotted schoolgirl.

"Yes, Rapunzel," he responded, keeping his voice husky and deep. It was his attempt to compensate for being caught with such an unfortunate countenance, but the tone of his voice had made her blush and avert her eyes towards the fire causing him to take note of her response for future reference.

They sat there in silence as he patiently waited for her response. When she spoke again it was in a small, shaky voice. "There's something I need to tell you. There's something about me you need to know."

The hesitancy in her voice was not lost on him but he wasn't worried. He felt he knew everything he needed to know about her already. He knew that he loved her, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and that she had agreed to go with him. And so he purposely responded in a breezy, almost disinterested manner in an effort to allay her fears and put her at ease.

"What's that?" he asked casually, a contented smile forming over his lips as he met her gaze.

"I'm the Lost Princess."

Her words cut through his heart, his hopes, his dreams like daggers and he felt like he had been stabbed in the gut as he balked at them. It was as if she had pulled the rug from under him and didn't stop there but proceeded to unravel its fibers until everything that just moments earlier had propped him up, had sustained him was now eviscerated.

He sat there in silence. Unable to form words, he said nothing. He felt numb and then he felt sick. He felt like he might empty the contents of his stomach right then and there.

"Eugene?"

She sounded distant, as if she were far away. He wasn't sure how long she had been calling him because his world had fallen deaf to everything but the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

"Eugene?!"

When her voice finally got through the dense fog, it spurred him into action.

He took her by the shoulders. "Are you sure?" He implored her.

"Yes," she responded.

". . . But how?"

"That night, the night of the lanterns, I walked up to the memorial for the Lost Princess. That's where I saw it. The mural. I recognized my parents. And the sun symbol . . . as crazy as it sounds, I remembered the sun symbol from my nursery. I've been drawing it my whole _life_. That's when I knew those lanterns were meant for me and that's where she found me. The woman who said she was my mother. I managed to get away from her . . . but then she caught up with me in that alley."

He began rapidly examining her face, frantically searching her features, desperately looking for something, _anything _to convince him otherwise, to refute this odious fact.

But he searched in vain and found nothing. To the contrary, he saw for the first time the strong family resemblance. A moment, that's all it took for him to know it was true, to know it was hopeless, and to resign himself to his cursed existence and her sovereign future.

"You have to go back." He choked on the words, his voice harsher than he had intended.

"_No_!" she said, holding back tears, "I'm still going with you!"

"Rapunzel, you can't -"

"Eugene, _no_! You said I could come with you. You said you wanted me to come with you," she was sobbing now, pounding his chest with her fists as if his heart weren't already broken.

"Rapunzel, you can't stay with me. You _have _to go back."

"Then you're coming back with me -"

"Rapunzel," he said sternly, having already grown weary of the conversation, "I stole the crown. The guards saw me do it. If I go back now, they'll hang me. I can't go with you."

Despite his firm words, his treacherous arms betrayed him as he pulled her into a hug and she crawled onto his lap. He held her there against his chest, against the fragments of what was once an intact and happy heart, not because it stopped her from hitting his chest but because he needed to hold her.

She urgently placed her ear over his heart like she had done earlier, like she was searching for something, like it would contradict his words and tell her otherwise, but to his further dismay it only made her cry harder.

He was certain of what he needed to do next. He knew now that he had to persuade her to return to her parents, he knew now that she was not his and never would be, he knew now that after tonight, he would never be able to hold her.

They sat like this until she calmed down. They sat like this mostly in silence, her breath occasionally catching in her throat when she could no longer suppress a sob.

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly.

"I remember when you were born," he told her.

He heard her gasp in surprise. She tried to pull back to look at him, but he placed a hand on her head, gently keeping her in place. It was easier this way. It was easier to get through this, to convince her to leave him, to let her go if he didn't have to look at her, at those tear stained cheeks and those sorrowful eyes, now pools of grief.

"You do?" She responded quietly.

"Well . . . _yeah_. Everyone does. You're kind of a big deal."

It was his attempt at lightening the mood. He was feeling humorless but he desperately wanted to cheer her up and he thought it might be working because he could've sworn he heard a soft chuckle, so he continued in this feigned playful tone.

"I was eight. It my first year at the orphanage and I was having . . . a hard time adjusting. Every night we had to be in bed by seven, crazy right? But then you were born and there was this big . . . celebration. Everyone was there. We were all excited, even the older kids, the ones who walked around pretending to be disinterested in everyone and everything, and -"

"Were you one of those disinterested older kids?" She interrupted as she pulled back and looked up at him. Their eyes met and they shared a small smile.

". . . Well, I guess you could say that . . . yeah, I was," he admitted as he rubbed the scruff on his chin, feeling a bit sheepish.

"Anyhow," he coughed, trying to disguise an embarrassed chuckle, "they took us to the village square, the one that faces the palace balcony and has that painted sun emblem, and they gave us each our own lanterns. That was the part I was looking forward to the most. Sure having a newborn princess who would one day rule the kingdom was great and all, but the lanterns . . . they were actually going to let us light the lanterns. That wasn't something we did everyday. Back at the orphanage they wouldn't even let us light the candlesticks at night. I guess they must've been worried we would burn the place down or something, can't imagine why."

"Did you see the princess? Did you see me? What about the King and Queen? Did you see them? What were they like?" She asked with building enthusiasm, each question interrupting the one prior.

"Well," Eugene chuckled at her eagerness, "at sundown, the King and Queen walked out onto the balcony. The Queen was carrying you in her arms and you had all this golden hair and they, your parents, looked very happy as they released that first lantern into the sky. . . . Rapunzel, they love you. They've been doing this for you ever since. Every year, without fail, on your birthday. Rapunzel . . . you, you have to go back."

"Okay," she responded quietly, "I'll go back, but you have to promise me that a year from now . . . on my birthday . . . if you still remember me, a year from now if you still choose me, that you'll come back for me. And if I still want to leave, promise me that you'll take me with you."

"I promise," he said, his voice thick with emotion as he took her in his arms again, grateful that the once roaring fire had been reduced to embers, grateful that in this position, she couldn't see his face.


	5. Chapter 5 The Journey Home

**Chapter 5 - The Journey Home**

Eugene stared at nothing in particular. It was dark in the cave. The moon never bothered to show up and he knew that no matter how hard he willed it, the sun would come up eventually and it would only be a matter of hours before they would have to say their goodbyes.

He didn't even try to force himself to fall asleep. He knew it was pointless and even though he had coaxed Rapunzel into an uneasy slumber hours ago, he wanted to remain conscious of her tucked into his side, to stay awake, to be able to remember these last moments with her.

Although they had slept in the cave for the past week without incident, the floor of the cave now felt uncomfortable - unforgiving and hard, as if they were guests who had outstayed their welcome.

Rapunzel seemed to have been placated by the promise that they would meet again in a year's time. Rapunzel also believed in things like fate and destiny. Eugene knew better, he was a realist. To him, the promise rang hollow and he took no comfort in it. Sure, she thought she loved him _now, _but she had only known two people her entire life and he hadn't tried to imprison her and currently he was the only one of the two who was still alive - so he handedly won that contest by default. He had lived long enough to know that she was something special, that he would never meet anyone like her and that he would long for her the rest of his life. But she had only just started living. He knew he was nothing special and that soon, maybe even tomorrow, she would meet other men, important men, noblemen who were rich and titled and perfectly suitable for marrying a princess. He was a thief, an orphaned one at that, who had nothing to offer her. He had done nothing to deserve her affections and was unworthy of her love.

She shifted in her sleep and he possessively tightened his arms around her, still unwilling to let go of her. Despite the uncontroverted truth that they weren't meant for each other, he still marveled at how well they fit together. It just felt right. He had first noticed it earlier in the week, back when things between them looked promising and hopeful, back when she was just a girl who had saved his life and had given him a reason for living.

Eugene watched as the sun intruded on his thoughts and crept its way into their cave. It was morning now and he saw no point in delaying the inevitable.

"Rapunzel. . ." It was his turn to wake her from her dreams.

* * *

Eugene had been unconscious when Rapunzel had rowed the gondola ashore that first morning when they arrived on the mainland. He had been dead weight to her and she'd had her hands full dragging his limp body out of the gondola and across the beach.

He surveyed the area as they walked out of the woods and onto the clearing. It was an old habit he had picked up while thieving. He had practiced it for so long that it now seemed innate. There were small rocks, boulders, fallen tree trunks, actual trees, a million things to secure a small boat to but the fact remained that their small boat had not been secured and had probably washed out to sea with the first turn of the tide. He supposed it was for the best, the king's men had been searching for him in the forest and a gondola tied to a tree or a rock would've surely raised the eyebrows of even Corona's guards.

"What do we do now?" She asked, staring intently at a spot in the sand he could only assume was where she had left the boat before lifting her eyes across the water towards the horizon. The kingdom was not quite visible from where they stood on the beach, but he could still detect a slight longing in her gaze.

"How well do you remember those swimming lessons?"

"What?" She sounded alarmed.

"Kidding!" He smiled at her and playfully bumped her shoulder, she sighed in relief.

"We'll just have to walk to the bridge. It would be easier if we could walk along the shore but that's not really an option. It's been a week but I'm pretty sure the kingdom and I aren't exactly simpatico at the moment."

"Come on," he told her as he reached for her hand and headed back into the foliage, "we better get going if we're going to get you home before sunset."

He saw her face light up at the word home. It tugged at his heart and he knew he had to get her there safely.

They walked through the woods, checking from time to time to make sure they were still parallel to the shoreline. While on their trek, he noted that Rapunzel seemed a little at war with herself. There were moments when it seemed like she was talking a mile a minute. She was bouncy and cheerful and eager, it was as if they couldn't get to the kingdom fast enough. Then there were those other moments, when she fell silent or started to cry, when she literally fell by the wayside or he practically had to peel her off a rock.

Eugene was feeling conflicted himself. Although he masked his own struggles and internalized his emotions, he was having a difficult time dealing with their impending separation. On the one hand, he was grateful for the short reprieve the missing gondola had provided him - even if it came in the form of a handful of stolen hours with her. On the other, listening to her talk animatedly about her plans once she reunited with her parents was painful and only served to underscore the awful truth that she had her whole life ahead of her and he was still trying to figure out what he would do tomorrow when he woke up and she was no longer beside him. He was still trying to figure out how he would manage living without her.

It wasn't any easier on him when the pendulum of her emotions swung the other way. He took no solace when she expressed fear and anxiety about leaving him because he wanted her to be happy. He wanted her happiness more than he wanted anything else in life, more than he wanted his own happiness.

They reached the end of their journey much sooner than he had expected, much sooner than he would've liked, and it appeared she was equally unprepared because she started to panic. They stopped just before reaching the clearing in front of the bridge.

They remained hidden in the thick vegetation that surrounded the clearing and he couldn't help but think they'd reached the kingdom at the worst possible time as they stared out onto the bridge. It was late afternoon and the bridge was laden with foot traffic. All the laborers that had toiled in the fields on the mainland during the day were headed back home for supper. Eugene cursed under his breath as he realized that this was it, that he couldn't travel any further with her.

"What if they don't like me?" she whispered. Her voice was small and shaky, much like her frame.

Eugene chuckled at the absurdity of the question, but when he glanced down at her and saw her eyes full of worry he stopped short and turned to face her.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about that," he told her, stooping down to meet her gaze and place a hand behind her ear.

"They're going to love you. It's impossible not to love you Rapunzel." He spoke those words with absolute sincerity, having never been more certain of anything his whole life.

Eugene reached for the strap of his satchel, when she interrupted him with her next question.

"But, what if they don't believe me? What if they think I'm not telling the truth?"

"They will," he assured her matter-of-factly but the question sent a chill down his spine and caused a new worry to loom over him like a dense fog.

It hadn't occurred to him before, but it was possible that they wouldn't believe her. They were probably expecting a princess with long, golden tresses and it was equally possible she might not even reach the King and Queen. After all, the guards were not known for their intellectual acumen, he had run circles around them even in his younger years, when he was long on daring and short in stature.

His hand still lingered over the satchel. He had planned to give it to her when they reached the bridge but now he wasn't so sure. The guards might jump to conclusions, they might look at her as an accomplice and rather than strengthen her position, possessing the crown might undermine her claim.

It was too late now to cobble together a contingency plan in case everything fell apart and he didn't want to frighten her by sharing his concerns, she was having second thoughts already. There was only one thing left to do, let her go.

He took both her hands in his and he crouched down so he could be eye level with her.

"Okay, Rapunzel. Listen to me. Once you get on the island you need to hurry. I want you off the streets before it gets dark. Go find the guards. They start their evening patrols along the perimeter of the island at seven, you can't miss them. Look for the guard with the mustache and the tall shiny hat, the one with the stern, relentless, legalistic white horse. That's the Captain. Never mind him you go straight to his horse. Believe me, he's the smartest man . . . er, horse they've got. You need to tell him you're the Lost Princess and demand that he take you to see the King and Qu -"

"A year from now Eugene, you'll come for me?"

"Yes, Rapunzel, I promi-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish his answer, or close his eyes for that matter, when she threw her arms over his shoulders and her lips came crashing onto his. As soon as he regained his composure he tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss. He realized that this could very well be their last kiss and if it wasn't, it was certainly the last kiss he would give her in a very long time. He wanted to make it memorable, he wanted her to think back to this kiss every time some inexperienced, fumbling blueblood tried to plant one on her while sitting on some stone bench in a gazebo at the end of a ball.

When he let go of her, they were both panting. Without further words, he watched her walk out onto the clearing turning back once to look at him before disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

He looked up at his target and she looked beautiful. There, brushing her hair and gazing out the window towards the vast dark ocean. She seemed serene and happy, well almost happy. He could tell she was only almost happy because the corners of her eyes didn't crease the way they always did when he looked at her.

He threw pebbles at her window until she put down her hairbrush and walked out onto the balcony to investigate the noise. When she looked down she gasped in surprise and he put his index finger to his lips motioning her to keep quiet.

He scaled the outside wall of the castle and before long he was right under her balcony. He pulled himself up over the balustrade and she reached over the railing eager to embrace him.

"Eugene! You came back for me!" She exclaimed waiting until his boots were firmly planted on the ground before embracing him again.

"I had to make sure you were alright. They seem nice, your parents."

"You saw them? How?"

"I watched you guys earlier today, when you met them out on the balcony. I kept my distance; hid behind the large planters. I had to make sure you were alright," he repeated.

He felt her warm fingers interlace with his own as she pulled him into her bedroom. That small gesture was enough to make his heart race. He thought back to the nights they'd spent by the campfire, when she would sit on his lap and place her ear over his heart. It was only yesterday, but it felt like another lifetime.

She let go of his hands as they crossed the threshold and Eugene looked up taking in his surroundings. It was a large room with high ceilings and fine furnishings. It was a room fit for a princess. It was a room fit for her.

And then he lowered his eyes to take her in. He saved her for last because he wanted to savor her. He wasn't disappointed. She looked resplendent in a lilac colored dress and she had been scrubbed clean. She was so clean she practically gleamed, smelling of lavender soap. Eugene shook his head in amazement, it had been less than six hours since he saw her walk to the bridge but here, surrounded by luxury and clad in silk taffeta, she already looked like a different person. He couldn't imagine what a difference a year would make. He felt his pulse quicken at the thought that the girl he knew was already vanishing into this polished version, into this princess.

Suddenly his fingers twitched, he wanted nothing more than to find that green dress - the one she had clearly outgrown years ago and despite its age had only recently become tattered and sullied after a week with him - and take her away from here. But instead, he appeared calm as he stood beside her, complimenting her on her new accommodations and making a half-hearted joke about getting used to a view like this. Despite their proximity, he didn't dare hug her because he couldn't trust himself to let her go, and kissing her, well that was out of the question.

"I couldn't leave without giving you this." He pulled the strap of the satchel over his head, careful not to muss up his own hair and placed it on her dresser, retrieving the crown in one continuous motion.

He held it up teasingly above her head, expecting her to reach up and grab it from his hands.

Instead, her gaze dropped to the floor, to where her feet would've been if she were still wearing her green dress instead of a floor length gown.

"It's yours now," she mumbled, "I want you to have it."

"Rapunzel, I can't take this," he said placing the crown unceremoniously on her dresser. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"How . . . how will you survive, if you don't take the crown and sell it?" She bit her lip in worry.

Eugene smiled as he gazed at her in awe. He was wrong. He'd been so quick to jump to conclusions, so easily fooled by the regal veneer. She was still the same girl. The girl that fretted and cried as she cradled a stranger in a dark alley. He realized at that moment that it had been her compassion, it had been her unselfish kindness that had succeeded in breaking down long-standing walls, where others had tried and failed.

He was touched by her concern for him, for his well-being, and at the same time he felt ashamed of how quickly he had dismissed her feelings for him, of how little regard he must have for them if he thought that they would change with the hours, or wind, or the tides, or the seasons. For the first time since he had learned of her birthright he felt hopeful. Hopeful that if he turned it all around, that he might be worthy of her after all.

"Rapunzel, this," he picked up the crown and despite its weight he was feeling a lot lighter, "belongs to you. As for me, well I've been taking care of myself a long time before the crown and I crossed paths."

He gestured for her to turn around and face the mirror above the dresser, their eyes meeting in the reflection.

"May I?" He asked and she nodded in assent.

He stood behind her as he carefully placed the crown on her head. He let his hands rest on her shoulders and he crouched down to whisper in her ear.

"Same time next year?"

He saw the crease in the corner of her eye before he looked up to see her beaming smile in the mirror.


	6. Chapter 6 The Reunion

**Chapter 6 - The Reunion**

Rapunzel couldn't sleep. She was up before sunrise and anxiously willing the hours to pass quickly. She sat at the edge of her window seat, staring out to sea even though it was still too dark outside to see anything, even though he was not expected at port until at least another six hours.

"Princess, you are up already?" A matronly woman sounded surprised as she entered the princess' room holding a candlestick in one hand and a bundle in the other.

"Oh, Helga. It's here. It's finally here. He'll be here today." Rapunzel stood up to greet her governess.

The older woman frowned, drawing attention to the worry lines that had over the years etched deep grooves on her forehead.

Rapunzel knew this look well. It was a pitying look. It was the look that Helga assumed every time Rapunzel mentioned _him_.

"Now, princess. I don't want you to get your hopes up too high. No one has seen this Flynn -"

"Eugene," Rapunzel quickly corrected.

". . . this Eugene Fitzherbert in almost a year. I know that he's made certain promises to you and while we were all shocked when he returned you and your crown, his reputation precedes him. He's not known as a man who keeps his word."

Rapunzel bit her lip in uncertainty. She knew that Helga meant well, that she only wanted to protect her from heartache, but the woman had a knack for unintentionally undermining her confidence.

Helga placed the candlestick on the nightstand and the bundle on the bed before walking over to her charge who had assumed a stiff, defiant stance, and was almost clinging to the leaded window.

"Now, princess, don't be upset with me," Helga said earnestly as she approached the young princess and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's my job to prepare you for life's disapp- . . . lessons. I'm not saying he won't come, stranger things have happened, I suppose. It's just that I'd hate to see you get your hopes up. Now come child, I've got a surprise for you."

Rapunzel knew it was futile to argue with her governess. There was no point in explaining to Helga that Eugene was the love of her life, that the other men who visited court were dull and trifle compared him, and that it was impossible for her not to get her hopes up. There was not a single day that had passed that she did not think of him and of their short time in the cave. If she didn't cling to the belief that he was coming back, she'd drown in grief.

She knew her governess was a practical woman and, despite her intelligence, she would never understand matters of the heart, so Rapunzel remained silent as she followed her governess towards her bed.

"I was going to surprise you when you woke up, but seeing as you're already up, there's no point in delaying this until morning."

Rapunzel eyed the lumpy brown package wrapped in wax paper, the kind they used to wrap fish down at the market, and tied with a simple white string. She raised an eyebrow, this gesture was so unlike Helga. Partaking in schemes and games was the princess' domain and she had learned early on that Helga neither liked to give nor receive surprises.

"Well, go ahead open it." Patience was not a virtue that Helga placed much stock in.

Rapunzel picked up the package with both hands and sat in the spot where it had laid. She pulled the string off and the paper opened up like a flower. Rapunzel beamed as she looked up at Helga.

"_Oh _Helga," she said, tears welling up in her eyes as she carefully picked up the garment.

"Now princess, there's no need to fuss over a ratty old dress." Emotions were not Helga's strong suit either.

"It's my dress. You got me my green dress. And look it's been re-hemmed and cleaned. It looks almost new. Oh, Helga, however did you manage it?

"Oh, it was nothing," She waved her hand dismissively. "It turned out it hadn't been lost at all, just misplaced in a donation box that never quite made it to the rummage sale at the orphanage. I handed it over to the seamstress for repairs. She was able to patch it back up for me. She did a pretty good job of it, I must say.

Rapunzel leaped off the bed and draped the dress over her body. Somehow, having this physical memento of their time together solidified her faith that he would keep his promise, that he would be coming back for her. Sure she had her crown and it had been responsible for bringing them together in the first place. But the crown did not factor in heavily when Rapunzel thought of their time together. It had remained, for the most part, in his satchel and tucked away safely in the cave that fateful week.

* * *

She arrived at the memorial almost a hour early, taking off her shoes and leaving them just inside the entrance of the structure. It was daytime but the fire at the hearth of the shrine that honored the Lost Princess was still ablaze. It was attended to daily and had burned continuously for almost nineteen years, casting a warm amber glow on the walls of the circular building.

As her bare feet walked across the hard marble floor she recalled how she'd pleaded with her parents not to tear it down. The monarchs had been perplexed by their daughter's impassioned reaction. They didn't understand why she felt so strongly about preserving the shrine. It was a difference of opinion, they would soon come to learn. To them and the subjects of the kingdom, the memorial was a sad, outdated testament to a painful period in Corona's past. To her, it was a testament to self-discovery, to new found love, and to a hopeful promise of someone else's return. In the end, she had won out. Rapunzel grinned at the thought.

Her parents knew about Eugene of course. She talked about him every chance she got. It was a way to keep his memory alive and an opportunity to remind them that whatever his past misdeeds, he had single-handedly been responsible for returning their daughter and for restoring their happiness.

By now, she had told and retold the story of their week together countless times. She'd told her parents how he'd stood up to her captor, how he had been wounded while attempting to save her, and how he had ensured her safe return. But she was always careful to leave out certain parts of the story. She didn't tell them how she had cried and begged him to take her with him or how he had agreed to come back for her. The latter was something she eventually divulged but had initially kept from them because they had been so overwhelmed with joy, she didn't want to tell them that her return might not be permanent. The former would remain a secret because she didn't want to hurt her parents' feelings. For almost eighteen years they had released a single lantern into the night sky with the unwavering hope that she would find her way home and she had been willing to turn her back on their love and run off with a man she'd just met. Now that she knew and loved her parents, she felt ashamed that she had been so callously willing to let them go on with their broken hearts and their futile lantern ceremony, and live out their lives without her. Still, there was a tiny part of her, the same part that in moments of weakness entertained doubts about the possibility of a broken promise, that feared she might regret her decision.

It was when they discussed the fate of the memorial that she finally told them that Eugene would be returning for her and that she wasn't sure what would happen when he did. After that, when she talked of Eugene, they gave her the same pitying look that Helga would give her, as if they couldn't believe that he would keep his promise to her and they didn't want to see her heartbroken. Soon after she had made this disclosure, her father signed pardon papers in absentia and on his own accord, eagerly removing any and all legal obstacles on the off chance that Eugene, and by extension his daughter, wished to stay.

She studied the different panels carefully, partly to pass the time and partly because, in truth, she had only been here once, that night on her eighteenth birthday. Despite the significance this memorial held in her heart and the fervor with which she fought to preserve it, she was afraid to visit it before it was time. Some irrational part of her thought that if she set foot inside the temple before today that he might not come back for her. It was a silly thought - she knew this, she shared it with no one - but even so, she didn't want to jinx it.

On her first visit to the temple, the imposing center mural of her with her parents had commanded almost all of her attention. Although she had only seen it once, she had committed it to memory and recalled that mural often and vividly, but she had forgotten about the smaller murals that graced the walls of the circular structure. She recalled what she had notice the first time. That the smaller murals started with a magic golden flower and told a story. Her breath caught in her throat when saw that the last wall still laid bare, as if it was too soon to tell how the story would end.

"Rapunzel?"

* * *

He had made good time and had arrived at port earlier that morning. It was the day of the lantern festival and there was a shortage of rooms among the nicer establishments, but he'd had no trouble securing a room at an inn near the wharf. The innkeeper, an ornery old man, had given him an annoyed scowl, when he had truthfully answered that he didn't know how long he'd be staying. Most guests preferred a view of the water, and so the innkeeper had been equally miffed when he'd had walked Eugene up four flights of stairs to his finest room only to have the young man reject it and ask for one with a view of the castle.

"Alone at last," he breathed after the man left and he had shut the door behind him. He walked over to the window and felt a pang of nervous anticipation as he stared at the lonely white dome on the hilltop. He maintained his gaze as he divested himself of his weary traveling clothes, before retreating to run a hot bath. On his way to the washroom, he looked down at the faint white scar on his thigh and smiled.

Eugene's heart was in his throat as he raced through the hilltop and up the marble steps of their meeting place.

He saw the familiar green dress and the short, chocolate locks. He recognized her instantly, but when he called out her name it came out like a question. It was as if he didn't trust his eyes enough to believe she was actually here.

The small figure turned around instantly.

"Eugene!" She cried out as she closed the short distance between them and wrapped her arms around him.

The force of her momentum knocked him back a few paces before he tripped over her shoes and they both tumbled to the floor. He'd forgotten how strong she was despite her slight frame, but he hadn't forgotten how beautiful she was. He'd thought about her every day since they had parted. She was the first thing he thought of when he got up in the morning and she was his last fleeting thought when he drifted off to sleep at night.

His body had cushioned her fall, but his hands had been unwilling to let go of her waist to break his own. He landed hard on an elbow, instantly feeling the tingling, prickly sensation run up his forearm and into the fingers that continued to greedily cling to her.

"You're here," he said with a smile, as his eyes quenched their thirst in deep pools of emerald. His fingers tightened their grip on her midsection as he sat them both up, afraid she'd move off of his lap in response to the change in position but she made no such effort.

"Of course I'm here. I made a promise and I always keep a promise."

Eugene's dropped his gaze as his heart sank to his stomach. He couldn't help but feel disappointed at the reason she had given. She was here to fulfill an obligation.

He felt a small hand under his chin. She tilted his head up to meet her eyes. He'd always thought of green as a cool, crisp color. It was the color of spring and the color of newness. At this moment however, as she firmly pressed her soft lips to his, it appeared to him that green was also the color of hope and the color of happiness.

They sat on the smooth floor of the shrine for almost an hour. She told him about her parents and about her life as a princess. She also told him how much she had missed him and how she had been looking forward to this day. Eugene had teasingly pretended he hadn't heard that part, just so she would repeat it. She indulged him while at the same time making clear she wasn't falling for it. She went on to talk about all the people she had met and the friends she had made, the palace guards and the white horse, whose name turned out to be Maximus. He's nothing but a big sweetheart, she explained to a skeptical Eugene. When she finished, he asked her to go back to the part about how she couldn't resist his devilish charm or live without his devastatingly handsome face, which earned him a playful shove on his shoulder.

When it was his turn to speak, he barely got to the part about the ship when she shot up, grabbing his hand and tugging him up with an enthusiastic squeal, "It's here?! Come on, let's go see it."

* * *

Eugene appeared nervous, his hands behind his back, as he walked wordlessly behind Rapunzel. She took her time inspecting the minutiae on the top deck. She ran her hand along the freshly polished wood noting the sturdiness of the railings and tugged the coils of ropes that had secured the sails to their spars before they'd arrived at port.

"Well, how will with this work, exactly?" She blushed when she realized the forwardness of her question which was laden with assumptions and felt immensely grateful that he could only see the back of her head at the moment. Her heart sank as she considered the possibility that he might not be staying or planning to take her with him. It dawned on her that he might've just come to fulfill a year-long promise or to wish her well and to show her what he had made of himself.

Eugene must not have picked up on the meaning of her words because he responded in nautical terms, explaining how the sails fit into their riggings and how the tiller functioned. He seemed proud of his ship. When she looked out to the surrounding boats in the harbor, his appeared larger, sturdier than the others. She felt her heart swelling up with pride for him. It bubbled up inside her until it spilled over into a wide grin. Her eyes watered as she realized he'd accomplished a childhood dream.

"Ahem!" A man cleared his throat as he walked up from the ship's galley.

Rapunzel turned around and gasped when she saw the imposing figure. She looked over to Eugene who appeared surprisingly calm standing beside the stranger.

"Princess Rapunzel, may I present to you Captain Hook!" Eugene gestured towards the man.

"Hook_hand_," the portly man correct, "Captain Hookhand. It's an honor to meet you Your Highness."

"I still think Captain Hook sounds like a better name," Eugene muttered to no one in particular.

Rapunzel smiled when she realized that despite the man's sneer he was quite friendly. She shook his good hand enthusiastically.

"I will be taking over this ship and overseeing the others." The man declared, ignoring Eugene's comment.

"Others?" She asked bewildered.

"Well it's not much of a fleet if you've only got one ship." Eugene added.

"You've got a whole fleet of ships just like this?" Rapunzel was stunned, gripping the railing for support. She had been impressed that he'd been able to purchase this vessel alone. She never imagined that he'd been able to amass a whole fleet of merchant ships.

At that moment Rapunzel realized that the deck was filling up with other burly men who were making their way up from down below. A motley crew of what a year ago she would've described as ruffians and thugs. The one behind the captain had a goiter that was outsized only by his nose. He gave Eugene a thumbs up gesture to which Rapunzel only heard Eugene respond with a groan. There was one wearing viking horns, one dressed as a mime, and one who was carrying a potted plant and pruning shears. The one with the large metal helmet was inexplicably wearing oven mitts. Despite outward appearances, they were all friendly and cheerful.

After making their introductions, the crew made flimsy excuses before retreating back down below deck. A fashionable man with long sideburns and a fur vest, bent down to pick up the smallest crew member who seemed to have fallen asleep face down at the top of the stairs before she could properly make his acquaintance.

They were alone again and Rapunzel resumed her careful inspection of the ship for a few more minutes, trying to gather her thoughts.

"It's beautiful!" She finally declared as she turned to face him and leaned back on the railing.

Eugene breathed a sigh of relief but there was something else in his eyes.

"I could take you out for a spin in the harbor," he offered as he drew nearer.

Rapunzel shivered in nervous anticipation when he placed his hands on either side of her, gripping the railing, but not quite touching her.

"What if I'd like to go farther?"

". . . That could be arranged too."

"And if I wanted to stay put . . . would you stay with me?"

"I would, if you wanted me to," despite his tone, it was a question, not a statement and it wafted between them for a moment before she answered it with her lips.

"Eugene?" She asked winded, when she finally broke the kiss.

"Yes, Rapunzel?" His voice sounded distant and dreamlike as if he were in a daze, or maybe she was the one in the daze, it was hard to tell at the moment.

". . . I don't understand. You no longer had the crown . . . where did you find the money for all these ships and for your crew? I mean, how did you manage to accomplish all this is such a short time?"

She heard the admiration in her own voice and noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward in response. She realized her hands had migrated to his chest when she felt a soft, nervous chuckle reverberate against her open palms. It made her feel like she'd swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

"Well, after I left your room, I did what any guy would do in my situation. I went to go drown my sorrows in the bottom of a tankard of beer. That's where I met these guys. It turns out they were looking for a career change too. As for the money . . . let's just say your father unintentionally _loaned _it to me a while back. I used it to buy my first ship. I can afford to repay him now with interest, of course. The rest as they say is history."

"Come on," she said shaking her head in mock disapproval as she laced her slender fingers in his thicker ones, "mother and father can't wait to finally meet you."

She heard a sudden rumble of cheers erupt from below the deck.

* * *

A few months later, the entire kingdom celebrated as the former rogue married his no longer lost princess.

**The end.**


End file.
